


Once Upon an Ancient Forest

by Norlem



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anxiety, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Nightmares, No Smut, PTSD, Roommates, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2020-10-04 01:17:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20462660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Norlem/pseuds/Norlem
Summary: The story of how one tiny yellow-beaked bird can change lives of two broken boys.





	1. Preamble

**Author's Note:**

> I'm in desperate need for a beta-reader as I'm not a native speaker and probably (the most certainly!) do tons and tons of mistakes. And also I would totally appreciate someone who doesn't mind to shake me out of my laziness from time to time (actually I just love my work and quite often gets too caught up in it). So if you like the idea of this fic and my way of storytelling you're more than welcome to contact me through e-mail (Ivgreen7@yandex.ru) or simply leave your contacts in a comment below this chapter.

Once upon a time one really really lonely boy came into the Forest.

The Forest was ancient and so immensely wise and deeply magical. Look close enough and you'd be able to find all sorts of magical creatures there: from tiny birds to enormous beasts and speaking trees, from widespread and well-known species to exceedingly rare and nearly forgotten, from gentle-hearted to the most malicious. 

But said boy wasn't afraid of wicked inhabitants of the forest. After all monstrosity he saw, all evil things he experienced in his short but painfully replete life they no longer felt frightening (or maybe the boy just wasn't afraid of death after everything that happened). Maybe, he thought, it would be easier this way. To die. And never have to prove anyone that he wasn't such a bad person as all people around used to see him. As dirty as he himself used to feel. 

The boy's name was Draco Malfoy. He was eighteen and deeply lost.

***

When he came into Forbidden Forest for the first time this year the weather was a total disaster. The day was as cheerless as it can get: all stormy clouds and bone-chilling wind. And as if in sync with the sky the boy was crying. 

He curled under an alder tree, among its gnarled roots and green wet grass that lined rich black soil around it. And through the bark, the nymph who lived inside the tree felt his body trembling in silent agony. She was kind and compassionate this nymph so she sang to the boy her favorite lullaby. The song was about sunlit misty logs and bright vivid colors of an autumn forest. His shoulders quite soon relaxed and sobs eventually faded away. 

Shielded by thick green foliage and the solid trunk of the tree he was sleeping peacefully and for the first time in a long while hungry flames and red eyes didn't hound him in his sleep.

Since this memorable day, he started to come here every now and then to calm his scorching nerves down or just to do his homework in peace. Sometimes the nymph would become a blackbird and play with his stationery (and he always would let her do so) and the other day she would calmly observe him from her tree. He was full of contradictions and ridiculous habits, but he was kind and clever and passionate about things he was interested in. Roughly a month later she was confident enough to change yellow-beaked bird for a human form. 

Her name was Birdy because she lived at the very edge of the Forest and because she was young and turbulent and absolutely enchanted by human beings. She was a weird one among nymphs. She was intelligent as a venerable sage but ignorant in people deeds as a child. She was all crystal-clear laugh, light dancing steps and shamelessly bright freckles in a color of fresh spring grass. He was slightly shocked at first when she came out of her tree but then, once they started talking, they never seemed to be able to stop again and through these small talks they shared discussing trees and weather and animals and fairytales they gradually became friends and he was only glad to answer infinite number of questions she always have about humans and their peculiar affairs.

He told her all of his miserable story. She wasn't repulsed and she wasn't full of pity either (as he was afraid she would). He was surprised at how sharply she was attuned to every piece of the story, to every emotion he knew were poisoning his words. She listened like no one before her did in his entire life (even if it obviously afflicted her in some strange way). He thought that maybe she just was too pure for such cruelty, but maybe it was something else entirely.

With every bitter word he let out of his system he felt like something rotten inside his soul was healing.


	2. Chapter 2

When November starts to bloom in the fire of auburn colors Birdy asks Draco to bring her to Hogwarts. Just because she always was curious about the castle but never was able to go there on her own and he... He's totally up spending some additional time with her. She brings peace and quiet joy in his life usually filled to the brim with sorrow, nightmares and endless deep-rooted regrets. 

It's not safe for a nymph to leave the Forest without an anchor and so Draco digs out a sprout of an alder tree Birdy points at and plants it in an old clay pot he borrowed from a new professor of Herbology. After that Birdy lightly strokes leaves of the little tree and under her gentle touch it gradually starts to grow. When it's about one foot high she takes her hands away and immediately the sprout leans just so slightly toward her as if regretting about the loss of warmth. Draco understands the little plant quite well in this matter. Sometimes he wants to lean into her side as well. 

At the dawn Draco strides a little bit awkwardly toward his room with the tree pot in his hands and the blackbird at his shoulder. Potter is nowhere to be seen (something Draco is already quite used to at this point) and so Birdy smoothly shifts to her human form and flexes her body as if after a long night sleep. 

"I really like to be a bird but a human body somehow just feels so much better," she says yawning. 

"You do realize that your body isn't exactly human, don't you?" 

She gives him a look of absolute innocence. 

"Your eyes are green, your hair is green, even your freckles are bloody green. And I'm not even mentioning how pale and transparent your skin is for a human," he evolves with pretended exasperation putting the ginormous effort in an attempt not to laugh.

"Your skin does look exactly the same way," she answers totally unconcerned. "And my hair for sure aren't bloody and even not exactly green - they're moss-colored if you must know"

And that's exactly how it all starts. 

Birdy becomes an important inhabitant of the room as Draco is. When Draco goes to classes she leaves the room through the open window and explores Hogwarts: she goes into the library as a gray ridiculously fluffy cat, into the gardens as a little snake with yellow "ears", into Hagrid’s hut as a blackbird and sometimes when in mood` she dives into the Black Lake as a shiny elegant bream.

When Draco's back to the room they usually talk or read books (together or separately) or, if the weather is good enough, they go for a long walk toward the Forest. And sometimes on especially bad nights they share a bed - it seems to be the only way to ease Draco's rare but severe nightmares - lying shoulder to shoulder on one pillow, taking away pain and fear with the reassuring warmth of human body and healing magic that mixed so generously in dryad blood.

Potter has nightmares too. It doesn't happen each night but pretty close so. Draco probably doesn't even know about any of it because Harry usually comes to the room far after midnight when Draco already is too deep in his sleep to notice and put quite a strong Silencing charm on his bed. But Birdy can see it. Can see his silent but - oh, so vivid! - agony.

Sometimes when it's getting really nasty she slips from under Draco's blanket and sits on Harry's bed close to his fragile shadow and strokes gently his back before he relaxes and can breathe more easily. And then she lies on his pillow - her curly hair intertwined with his wild black ones - and follows him in his dreams, shifts it smoothly, knowingly into a peaceful ones: she takes low stormy clouds, bone-chilling wind and ever-present breath of death and turns it all into green hills with sun-warmed meadows, into serene fragrance of flowers and honey, into sleep under an alder tree.

In the mornings that follow she's quite happy to see Harry's quite startle half-smile when he wakes up more rested than usually. 

Not long since the very first night like that Birdy tells Draco not to wait for her in the evening and follows Harry discreetly after Transfiguration class. She goes first to Eight-year common room where Harry sits for a while on the couch with a ginger-haired boy who's totally enraptured by something and amiable girl with bright clever eyes and a kind smile. Nobody seems to notice a motley cat with quite an ugly white spot on its face that lies curled in a nearby chair. 

After about an hour Harry excuses himself and heads straight to Astronomy tower, where he seats for a while at the very edge of newly rebuilt sky deck, doing nothing in particular, just staring at angrily pacing dark clouds. She turns into a bird and comes closer to him and chirps. Harry flinches slightly and turns his head toward her and suddenly smiles in recognition. 

"I know you, little one," he says gently as if afraid to scare her off. "I saw you several times in our room.” He looks at her quite intently for a minute and at the very moment she decides that he thinks about something completely unrelated he suddenly starts to speak again. ”He treats you well, isn't he?" 

Birdy jumps awkwardly toward him and dabs her tiny black head to the back of his hand. He doesn't seem mind. 

"He is a weird one, don't you think?" he says pensively, simultaneously bringing his index finger to her head and giving it a gentle pat. "He used to treat people so badly and now he takes care of such a little creature as if it is the most precious thing in his life."

"Weet-weet," Birdy says the only thing she can and leans her head slightly to one side. 

"Or maybe the truth is you are the most precious thing in his life?" He seems to be lost in thoughts for a while before being able to go on. "Because, you know, he seemed to be so lost at the start of the term. He was just an empty shell: no emotions, no reactions and totally not enough sleep. I thought that he was broken as much as...” He stops himself but she still can hear what he nearly said. “I mean, I thought he was broken beyond repair. And now... Now he seems to be kind of fine. At least more or less so." 

He speaks for a short while more about what a strange place the world sometimes seems to be and then abruptly stands with a start and heads toward the stairs that lead down. 

"Come on, he's going to miss you," he says not even checking if she is following.

When Harry enters the room with the blackbird at his shoulder Draco nearly triples over a pile of books in an attempt to stand from the table where he seems to be doing his homework. 

"Oh, here you are. I was so worried!" He says, speaking directly to Birdy, and she immediately can see the truth of his words. She sees it in his weary eyes and a little smile that he doesn't even care to hide. She did warn him about being late and everything but she didn't exactly explain any of it so she guesses he had all the right to be a bit mad at her. She would be worried too in such a situation. 

"She found me at Astronomy tower and didn't want to leave," explains Potter instead of her because in his world she obviously couldn't do it on her own. He even manages to look a bit guilty. 

"I see," Draco brings his hand to Harry's shoulder nearly touching thin material of his white shirt and Birdy who as well fells a bit guilty jumps on it and then fly over to his shoulder where she pecks him gently on the earlobe and chirps. “Don’t worry I’m not mad at you, actually It was really nice of you to keep Harry a company”. And then he adds, looking directly at Potter. "She kind of likes you, I guess."

She kind of likes him, yes. She kind of likes Draco too. 

For a minute there's this weird sort of silence which is partly about not knowing what to say and partly about being afraid to end the conversation. 

"Did you already finish your Portion homework?" Potter's voice sounds like a peal of thunder reverberating in a clear sky. 

"Is it a peace offer or something?" asks Draco incredulous, failing or maybe not even caring enough to mask his surprise. He's too busy being startled by the sudden change of topic in particular and by the length of conversation in general. 

"Yes?" Harry says suddenly shy.

At first Draco doesn't know what to say to that. But then he does. 

"You know, I gave my apologies to everyone except you." Harry doesn't know anything about that but probably it's so because he isn't exactly good at following conversations these days. "I'm sorry, I treated you the way I did." Draco stops and for several seconds both of them think that that's it but... "At first I was upset that you rejected my friendship (not without a reason, I know, but still) and after... Let's say it took me quite a while to figure out that my father only taught me how to be a noble jerk and never explained how to be a decent human being." 

Harry laughs - short, rough, nearly choking sound. 

"I never said sorry too." He starts to bring his hand to Draco's chest but then thinks better of it and lets it drop limply to his side. "I'm sorry."

Birdy still sits at Draco's shoulder so she feels how he tenses with mentioning of that fateful night. She remembers this part of his story. Of course, she does.

"Godfa… I mean, Snape said you didn't know what the spell did, but it doesn't make any sense..." 

"It doesn't but it's still true." And so Harry tells the story about Half-Blood Prince from the very beginning in every detail he knows because unsaid “godfather” triggered something deep and painful in his soul. And besides, he still remembers how glad he was to learn even small pieces of information about his parents. 

They both sleep uneven that night and to the time day is breaking Birdy barely manages to shift into a bird before she falls asleep on the very edge of Draco’s bed.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day starts for Birdy with a fleeting feeling of soar, a loud fwap, muffled crackle and a sharp pain. She probably unconsciously cries or says something because the next thing she hears is Draco’s sleepy “What the fuck?". 

Birdy opens her eyes and realizes that she sees a room under a completely wrong angle. At least that explains the fwap. She tries to sit but in this exact moment violent pain shoots through her left shin and a wave of nausea overwhelms her. When she’s able to open her eyes again she sees Draco with pure shock splashed all over his face… and then she sees blood. It rounds her lower shin and ankle and slowly trickles down toward a creamy carpet under her leg.

“What happened? I don’t understand…” Draco seems to be completely lost. He looks even paler than usual and his hands tremble so severe that he has to grab on the long nap of the rug to stop the shaking.

“Not that I understand any of it,” she tries to recall something, anything out of order from the previous day but nothing seems to be unusual. Yes, she didn’t sleep well, but for her sleep is more of a pleasant habit than strict necessity so... “I fell asleep as a bird and waked up like that and… my body feels weird. I mean, besides the obvious,” she tries again to sit and this time she manages to do so but in process awkwardly turns her left leg and ends up with another wave of dizziness, “Oh, that’s really hurts!” 

Not that she is invulnerable but breaking shin by falling down from a bloody bed seems to be a bit…quaint.

“I’m so sorry,” Draco’s voice trembles too.

“Don’t be. It’s barely your fault,” she takes his hand and squeezes it gently. “Do you have any idea how to fix it?”

“Only in theory: I know the spell but have never used it in a real life. And beside I don’t know how it can affect you… I mean, you can have a human body, but you are not a human. What if something go wrong?” Draco seems to be on the very edge of hysteria. Did something like that happened before or is it just a logical consequence of all experienced, seen and influenced pain?

“It’s just a shattered bone. I don’t even need it to be healed properly; all I need is to be able to come back to my tree and…” she abruptly stops speaking because something important catches her attention.

“I can do it,” Draco nearly jumps out of his pyjamas when he hears Harry’s voice, “I’m sorry I unwittingly overheard you conversation but I really can help. I don’t exactly understand what’s going on, but I used this spell quite a few times… and not only on human beings.” 

Harry looks absolutely disheveled: he dressed only in plaid pajama bottoms, his hair messier than ever and on his right cheek there’s a roundish red spot from the pillow, but somehow at the same moment he looks so trustworthy, so sincere and eager to help.

“I’m a nymph. Forest nymph,” Birdy says with determination. Harry nods and then sits close to her leg, right opposite of Draco. He seems to know exactly what he is doing and just a minute later after a warm wave of healing magic and swift-passing pang of pain Birdy can stand again. She looks at Harry for quite a long time before she starts to speak.

“I remember you now – the way your magic feels is something a magical creature like me can never forget – it’s too raw, too similar to our magic…” she brings her hand to lightly cup his face, but he doesn’t seem to notice or care, “We met several years ago, even if you don’t remember me.”

“As a matter of fact I do remember you, blackbird,” and then he put his palm above her neat little hand and smiles so brightly that for a fraction of second Birdy’s heart stops beating.

Draco in the meanwhile seems to compose himself a little bit, “I think now is my turn to not understand.”

Harry lower his hand and turns to Draco. Birdy lets go of him too but she's still a bit stunned by a sudden impact of his gesture.

“Do you remember second year DADA teacher, Lockhart?” Draco grimly nods, ”After what happened on a quidditch field I decided that I will learn the fucking spell just in case. And I did so… In theory. I learned the incantation, the movement but there was no way I would intentionally break something just to check if I’m doing the spell right… So I went to Forbidden Forest,” Harry pointedly ignores Draco’s how-it’s-even-logical expression and goes on, “Originally I wanted to find a fallen branch and practice on it but it was a day after quite a severe thunderstorm and a lot of trees near the closest border of the Forest were damaged so I decided…”

“He fixed them all,” Birdy finishes for him, “He fixed my tree as well.”

Draco surprised to see that Potter turns the most peculiar shade of pink at that. He pretends not to notice thought.

“I still don’t understand how you can remember her.”

“I didn’t back then know that she was a nymph, of course. But I saw quite an investigative blackbird in the forest while I was working on the trees and then… then I saw it several times in my dreams. They were very rare dreams that weren’t nightmares, so yes, I remembered her quite well...” he shivers, “You know what? I’m not against speaking some more but it’s bloody freezing in here so I would prefer to put something on first.”

Draco looks at Harry’s bare chest and then at his own pajama as if realizing for the first time what he's wearing.

“Yes. That would be sensible,” he says it with such dead seriousness that Harry can’t help but to chuckle which Draco gracefully ignores in favor of grabbing some clean clothes and heading toward their shared bathroom.

Birdy turns her attention back to Harry.

“Thank you, for now and then.”

“I guess you’re the one responsible for my recent suspiciously good sleep so I guess it’s me who should be grateful. You know, I wasn’t able to sleep properly since the end of the War and even before it wasn’t exactly better.”

“You’re more than welcome!” she says with a small smile and then looks in direction of a window, “I need to go to the Forest to check on something. I guess I see you later.”

“I guess so.” 

Harry goes to his wardrobe, fishes out a deep-blue hoodie and mismatching socks and put them on, then he sits down on the edge of his bed and watches Birdy intently because he is really curious about her transformation. Not that she minds. 

She closes her eyes, prepares her body to the restructuring, takes a deep breath and… nothing happens. Confused she tries again – nothing. Third time she imagines a different animal – not a bird, but cat – and the only thing she gets – a dull headache which starts somewhere in her nape and goes all the way up to her temples. She tries and tries before she’s absolutely exhausted… And then it hits her – she can’t feel the Forest. There’s no magic in her hands and body. That’s why it feels so heavy and unfamiliar! Absolutely astonished she turns to Harry.

“It’s not working. My magic isn’t working… I… I mean, how it’s even possible?”

Harry doesn’t know what to say so he just shrugs. Draco chooses this exact moment to reappear from the bathroom.

“What is possible?” he looks so ridiculously immaculate in his gray tweed trousers and black sweater that Birdy finds herself smiling despite everything.

“I can’t shape-shift. Literally. And I have no idea wh…” Her eyes stops at Draco’s soft wool sweater and then jumps at Harry’s hoodie and warm socks, “I’m cold – that’s what this feeling is! I completely forgot how it supposed to feels! That’s only can mean…” she sprints toward the window and her heart sinks – light feathers of white snow covers earth and trees.

“I missed it,” she says and the weight of these words hits her suddenly and ruthlessly, 

“I’m late,” her knees go weak and she limply slips down to the floor and ends up facing a dark gray stone wall. She can feel something wet on her cheeks and her stomach is oddly uneasy.

“Missed what?”, “Late for what?” Harry and Draco ask in sync.

When she isn’t answering Draco comes closer and put a warm hand on her ice-cold shoulder, “Is something wrong with your tree?”

“No, tree is probably fine – it’s me,” she answers still gazing at the wall blankly, “Something is totally wrong with me.”

“You need to stand up from the floor and sit at something more comfortable. I’m going to make some tea and you’re going to explain what happened. And then we’ll see if we can fix it. Okay?” she nods and stands and walks toward Draco’s bed.

Harry silently walks again to his closet and takes another hoodie from there, then open a small drawer and takes something from it as well, “Put these on - it’s going to be a bit big on you, but it’s clean and warm and you’re probably terribly cold in this dress.” 

Birdy have never ever considered her clothes before – she used to think about it as some sort of the default setting – all the nymphs in human form dress more or less like that – light, nearly transparent materials in natural colors which wrap snuggly their neat shoulders and slim bodies and go loosely to knees leaving everything else uncovered. Nymphs are not supposed to feel cold.

But she does feel bloody cold. In fact she feels freezing. So she takes clothes Harry gives her and looks at it for a second: except for a faded-yellow hoodie there’s a warm plain-black pyjama bottoms and weird couple of socks which have a red fishes printed on it. She knows (in theory) how to put all these stuff on but firstly she need to take off her dress. She tries and fails miserably. The dress doesn’t even have a zip or buttons as human clothes usually does.

“I have no idea how to take it off,” she says with a sigh, sounding defeated.

“Should we cut it maybe?” Potter suggests hesitantly, “If it’s not a part of your body or something like that.” 

Birdy tugs at the material and then gives it a sharp pull. No pain follows.

“I don’t think it’s the body, though it actually would make some weird kind of sense.”

Then it goes just like that. Birdy takes clothes Harry gave her and scissors Draco took out of his bedside table and goes to the bathroom. She cuts her dress right through its right side and takes it off missing familiar touch of the material immediately. Then she puts on pyjama bottoms and hoodie and immediately feels better. She likes it even more than her dress even if the weight of warm clothes feels a bit weird on her shoulders. She struggles with socks for a bit but when it’s done she finally feels warm and comfy.

When she comes back in the room, Harry and Draco are at the exact same places they were when she left. 

“I need to go to my tree,” there’s zero chance that she’s wrong in her presumption but still she needs to see it for herself.

Draco shoots a quick glance at Potter and after a short nod from him Draco answers for the two of them, “We’ll go with you.”


End file.
